Invincible
by R.N.Walker
Summary: A songfic. It is his struggle for world peace. It is his dream to set things right once and for all. And the world hates him for it…


****Important Note:** Due to this site's rules (and me not wanting this taken down), this is an edited songfic with most the lyrics removed. If you want the complete story, a link to it on my DeviantArt account is in my profile. I highly recommend reading that if you can. As always, I am open to criticism. I hope you enjoy!******

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material presented. All credit for Hetalia characters goes to Hidekaz Himaruya. All credit to the song "Don't Mess With Me" goes to Temposhark. Some inspiration drawn from the doujinshi "From the New World, With Love" (with all credit given to its author).**

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><p>Another long day. I allow myself to fall onto the living room couch, my tiredness openly displayed by my slouching form. Canada looks over.<p>

"Busy day, eh?"

"You've no idea," I groan as I stare to see what Canada's watching on the television. Yet another hockey match. Great. Doesn't he ever get tired of watching that stuff? I snort softly, too weary to even demand to turn the channel. "China finally accepted the trading agreements. That rebellion he and Japan has at his place sure has put off negotiations for quite a while, but thankfully I managed to get things back on track."

Canada doesn't reply. I grab the TV guide manual to see what might be on at this hour. As I browse, I notice my brother giving me a sideways look.

"Did you want to change?"

I lazily glance up. His gaze doesn't waver, but I could easily call him on his little bluff, his true inquisition. I instead, however, play along with a grin.

"Nah, we can keep watching your program. There's nothing good on anyways."

Twin amethyst orbs connect to mirroring blue ones. Unspoken thoughts transmit themselves through the silent air between us. Suddenly, the eyes avert. He wisely backs down.

As we return our attention to the screen, the sweet memory of how it all began flowed within me. There was no definite beginning that even I can recall; I stationed my pieces so early, so discreetly, that no one can be sure of when I started to manipulate the game toward its end. No one questioned the strategically positioned footholds I planted in their lands. And when the rarely spoken opinion was voiced, when someone did bat an eyelash at my curious behavior, it was only too easy to cover it up with a story of promoting peace…

…No…it wasn't a story…

It wasn't easy staying under the radar. It wasn't easy for me to convince the other nations to end their wars while I, behind their backs, was promoting them. It was never easy. But it was _so_ worth it. After all, no one ever suspects the Hero of instigating the bloodbaths, all in the name of justice. Tensions in Asia? Deport the navy to keep tabs on the Asiatic islands. Conflicts across the Middle East? Send the troops to reestablish the government into a rightful democracy. Anywhere there was danger to life, liberty, and my pursuit of happiness, hundreds of soldiers would be there to thwart the menace.

And by the time anyone figured out the true intentions, there was nothing they could do to stop it.

You have no idea how much satisfaction it brought me to see Russia begging for his own surrender. The joyous feeling when I saw that steel pipe clatter to the ground, never to be wielded again by its user as I handed him the agreement of land transfer—_heavenly_. The battle was terrible, so terrible, I won't deny…but it was necessary…

Needless to say, after getting over their initial shock, the rest of the world didn't take kindly to my victory, even after explaining I was simply reforming the snowy frontier into a country of freedom.

World War III was immediately declared. I laughed at the irony; this was technically the first _world_ war. _Every_ nation swore to take me down, and, inside, I admit I was a little scared. The wrath of the world is not something that can be taken lightly, even by the Hero. But you know blood is thicker than water? Canada was unable to carry out his threat. Oh, he mobilized, gathered the troops, and blocked all access to his lands. But he never issued the command to attack.

He is my brother. And I am his. I never planned for things to go like this. I had thought everyone would understand that I was only trying to help. I was certain he of all people would support me. He hadn't. But he hadn't forsaken me either. The relief I felt when he told me he couldn't do it…that he was so confused…I couldn't have been the Villain in his eyes, right?

…I guess my plans were a little too complex to comprehend all at once. Gladly I let him stay with me, stay out of the war. I would protect him.

When Canada failed to initiate the war, England made sure to pick up the fallen mantle. He effortlessly gathered support from the European nations and most of the Asian ones. But I think he failed to realize a couple things. First, I had Russia. Even if the representation refused to help me (as if I ever wanted it), I still had control of his lands, his people. They followed my laws now. They supplied me with the resources I need. It was possible for me to take on two fronts at once with my new piece.

Second was that most of the world still feared me. I am the Hero, and the Hero always has the best gadgets. The best weapons. The most bombs. Do you know what that means? It means less than a third of the world's nations even posed a threat to me, no matter how miniscule it may be. The others realized fighting against me would be pointless for them. Self-destructive even. They wouldn't stand a chance if I decided to wage war in their lands. So I let them preach about how they'd stop me from taking over the world. Because I knew none of them would have the guts to lift a finger once I did.

But…I didn't take over the world. At least, not in the sense of global domination, I'm pretty sure. It started off as something small, like letting me gain access to their trading market or having them accept a small proposition I made in regards to their government. Simple things that I knew wouldn't offset the operation of the country. I was only trying to help, after all. I wasn't evil; I wanted to avoid war if I could. Spread democracy. Let the people vote. Promote the freedom of speech. Give everyone the chance to have what they wanted and do what they desired. What is so wrong about that? What is? The others…the…he…England sees it as something abominable. Why is he so adamantly against what I am doing? What in the world is _wrong_ with what I'm doing?

Was this not his reason for keeping me under his thumb when I was a colony? He wanted to expand his empire so he could influence the world. Civilize it. Is that not what I'm doing? But I'll be better than him, better than Engl…_he_ ever was. He was too harsh. He wouldn't listen to what his colonies had to say. That's why I rebelled. But I'll be different. I'll be just. The others only oppose this now because they haven't tried it yet. They'll see.

…Why won't they just listen?

…

"…ear a word that I'm saying?"

I jerk at Canada's voice. "What?"

Canada pouts. I can see that it's a forced show of playfulness; his eyes give it away. They're still searching mine for something. "I asked if you want to change the channel now. The hockey match is over."

Oh. Some recap about last week's baseball game was starting. I turn to a station that has a movie playing. I've seen it before, but it's entertaining enough for me to watch again. "Have you seen this, Canada? Got a twist near the end; you just gotta see it! Amazing Hollywood effects, too, I tell ya." My brother rolls his eyes.

"You say that about all of your action films, America. Frankly, I'm wondering if you can even make a movie that doesn't have some sort of explosion or wild car chase in the climax." I smile and tousle his hair, earning myself a small chuckle in return. "Quit it!"

Laughter escapes me too. "HAHAHA! Admit it, my movies are the best!" He pushes my arm away, brushing his hair back into place, a smirk on his face. A serene one. A true smile.

Sometimes I wonder why the world won't look at me like my brother does.

They will soon enough.

My armies have already invaded every known resistance force. Both organized rebel groups and certain stubborn nations.

I wish they'd stop fighting me. I didn't want to hurt any of them. They didn't leave me much choice. Japan. I'm so, so sorry. You're my closest friend, you know. After the Second War, I never wanted to see you kneel before me. I never wanted to see your brown eyes go blank, your body stained red and scarred, your sword strewn from your grasp. I couldn't bear to see you cry and plead for me to simply end you right then. I didn't mean to reduce you to that. I guess I wasn't a good enough friend to you.

France. Why'd you do it? I had promised Canada I wouldn't touch you. But you just had to go and defend Spain and block my advances. England always described you as someone who'd surrender a fight; said you'd run away like a coward if the opportunity arose. I thought for sure you would understand my goals, or at the least know to stay out of my way. But you stood there and took Spain's blow. You held your ground against me, even though I had absolutely no intentions of ever harming you. See where it got you. Why though? I just don't get it.

Germany. I think I can sympathize with you and your dream of creating a perfect world. The rise of the Aryan race was a stupid plan. Foolish. Evil and ludicrous by every account. I, as the Hero, cannot and will never condone it. But your desire to make a place greater than it ever once was is nonetheless inspiring. It's only fitting that the greatest country on the planet spread his wealth to all. So I'll do just that. I'll help millions. Now if you and Prussia would please stop obstructing me…

Italy. I have to commend you. You try to negotiate things with me. I appreciate that. Despite being unable to see eye to eye, we are able to discuss as equals. I can't understand why you are crying, though. Changing your government so that your people have the same basic rights as my own isn't so terrible. It's not like I'm taking away their practice of religion or something. Or are those tears of joy? No, who am I trying to kid. You are just like the others, trying to tell me that what I am doing isn't like me. But when is it _not_ like me to help others?

China. For someone supposedly so old and wise, you were quick to denounce my influence from the start. But have you seen your people, China? Most of them are hungry, poor, working for hardly anything in your cities and fields. I know you want what's best for them. Let me help you. Heck, I'm willing to risk my hegemony to let you improve your conditions. Can't you see that? But no. You choose to fight me as if I'm bringing about the destruction of our world.

And England…

Why did you look at me like that? I saw it right there in your eyes. Shame. Anger. Betrayal. Revenge. Confusion. Determination. You and Canada are so much alike. But unlike my real brother, you won't side with me willingly. You led the rebellions like a lion his pride. You struck down my men with such savagery, so much malice. On the battlefield, I wondered if that was really you I was facing. And when you finally looked at me with those shining emeralds I used to know, they were always dull, always lacking the luster of brotherly affection and annoyance, filled instead with resentment and abhorrence. What did I do to earn your ire? We were friends once. Brothers. I tried to _help_ you!

Tried. Tried so hard. But, ultimately, you didn't want me to. So one day I decided to be cordial. I personally went to your house so we could talk. Isn't that what gentlemen do– talk things out? I was going to explain how my plan was to be the solution to all of Earth's tribulations. I'd make you understand. You'd give it a chance. Realize how right I was all along, how perfect it was—_is_—to make the other countries like my own. But how did you greet me? With a pistol to my forehead. You'd hear nothing I had to say, and I never had a chance to speak it. I tried to reason with you, but you rebuked me every time I opened my mouth. It didn't matter the evidence I had or the allies sided with me or the growing control I had over the world. _You. Wanted. Me. Gone._

And with me, all my ambitions and ideals I had embedded across the globe.

Here's the thing I've learned during my struggle to establish my dogmas around the world: many times things don't go the way you want them to. Nearly every country I went to struggled in some way, whether verbally challenging me or sending their armies or bombs to decimate my homeland and citizens. Those countries I quickly had to convince before things got out of hand. But you, England, were different. You told me, to my face, with excruciating detail, how my plan would be the destruction of us all. Societies would fracture. Revolts would run rampant. Terrorism would spread. Greed and power would overwhelm the common man's senses. Murder and death would be everyday occurrences. Progression would cease to exist.

I didn't want to hear that. You were wrong. You didn't know any of those things! How could you? I had the proof of my own plan working– just look at my country! I am the greatest nation in the word! I had more people coming out of poverty than anywhere else. My national debt was decreasing faster than any other country's. Unemployment was next to zero. And you dared to say my plan would fail? What evidence did you have? None! Not as how I planned; I was not going to let you talk down my efforts so easily. But you only sneered at me, saying those weren't evidence at all. Power and money did not equal greatness, you claimed; if anything, it only meant corruption. Pure intentions corrupt? Ha!

…I'll admit I don't remember very clearly what we said during our talk. I recall getting so frustrated with you. You just wouldn't _get_ it. The world needs to follow a single governmental system. How else would we be able to function effectively and promote cooperation? It's a wonder you older nations never implemented this sooner. Think of all the wars you could have spared yourselves.

You just couldn't seem to grasp that simple fact. You kept talking about me betraying the world and that I should leave this foolhardy path toward self-destruction. You wouldn't listen to me.

So I struck you. I doubt very seriously you saw the blow coming; you didn't react in time. Your gun was useless to you as I beat you down. My mind was racing with few thoughts. Words couldn't break through to you; maybe action could. I didn't want to do that. It hurt like you wouldn't believe. I had trusted you to understand. You who had almost succeeded in what I am in the process of doing. My heart ached for you as I saw red spurt. All you had to do was accept my offer of assistance. Why didn't you do so sooner? It was your own fault for that, for what you got. You deserved _every freakin' blow_! You fought me without considering me! You should have _listened_! Look what happened!

…

…I hear rumors that you're able to walk again.

I don't know what you planned with Germany, but he seems to think, with you out of commission, it's his job to halt my expansion in the western hemisphere. I'll say I'm surprised he's managed to work up a European resistance that's almost as powerful as the one in the east in just a few months. I swear between him, Mexico, and the joint efforts of China and Japan, I'm never short of a battlefield somewhere. Death and destruction and killing and clashing. All in vain. My will will win out in the end; my decree will be the law of the lands. Please, my friends, spare yourselves the anguish. Just accept what I have to offer.

It's either adaption or annihilation in my new world.

I need to head down to the capital soon. Check up on things, you know? It's been the target of recent attacks. Though the last major skirmish involved a rebelling group led by Mexico down south, so that was nice. I hadn't seen Mexico since the Battle of Yucatán– did a number on me that day. Thanks to the support from Central America, Mexico proved to be a worthy opponent, strong enough for me to divert most of my national guard to the border.

That was my mistake.

With my freedom fighters dispatched to the south, there were hardly any defenses on the east coast. I didn't think much of it until it was assaulted by fighter jets. At that time, England was still in charge of the Western faction. He launched an ambush on my White House, my Senate, my House of Representatives. My people. My home. This war had turned personal for England. He lost the opportunity to quell me in 1781. He wouldn't give up the chance to redeem himself.

My air force is something to reckon with. We shot down any and all invading aircraft risking the well-being of the original land of the free. With my perimeters secured again, I had no choice but to go on the offensive. The world pushed me to it. My men stationed all around the world invaded. The Middle East and African continent fell quickly, the only major resistances being Iran and Egypt. Oceania crumpled as well, though Australia and New Zealand managed to escape before the complete capture of their lands. South America became divided, smaller sections surrendering to my forces without the support of their neighbors. Asia is currently in a similar predicament: all the island nations and those along the eastern coast hadn't the ability to retaliate in time. The nations that were able to escape are now residing with China.

Europe is the only strongpoint left. For some reason, the rest of the undemocratic world looks up to them like saviors. That infuriates me! _I'm_ the Hero! _I'm_ the one trying to save everyone! Why are _they_ treated like the protagonists of this story? What does that make _me_? Blind! They're all blind for thinking Europe is a beacon of hope for anyone. What does history tell of it? They were the cause for nearly all the major wars ever fought. The cause for the spread of slavery, religious intolerance, disease. And the world still looks up to _them?_ It's not fair! What did they do to earn the people's respect?

I took down any and all governments that were not democratic republics. I instated trusted leaders to the reconstructed countries. As promised, laws were changed so the repressed could speak. The economies of those nations increased as did the quality of life for most. See? Here is living proof of the superior functioning of my policies. The overall contentment of the various populations improved. Sure there were revolts here and there (I won't say hundreds of years of tradition and beliefs won't leave some sort of impact on the people), but I'm sure they'll get used to it soon enough.

Some of the reformed countries have people who smile when they say my name. I like to believe that they're smiling out of gratitude. I really hope so. I am a kind person, aren't I? I really want to come across as such so other countries are encouraged to change themselves as well. I hate fighting; it has always made me sick.

I'll gladly do it, however, if it means seeing the world ruled tenderly under my watch.

Come to think of it, I'm glad I'm taking care of Canada. I'd kill myself if I had to face him. He's been by my side since this war began. Keeping me safe. Sane. Mostly sane. Every time I consider dropping a nuclear bomb (which is far more frequently than I care to admit), he's the one to remind me of the ramifications. I'd only be hurting myself in the long run. I'd only prove the point of being a greedy dictator if I resorted to weapons that were impossible to counter.

He gives me no support whatsoever. But he provides the voice, even if it is stained with his resentment of my actions or unease of how I'll react. He is constantly telling me how the other nations feel, why my plan is…dubious from their perspective. He tries to act like the way things were before the war, and I act along with him, knowing someday soon we won't have to play out this game of pretend. I love him so dearly. That's why I never raise any questions about the small groups of rebels I find stationed near his border. The ones providing aid to the foreign rebels who sneak into my land from the north.

I like telling myself that he's just unaware of them. I'd like to believe it, too.

I…I can't believe it, though. I'm so close. My dream, I mean. I have control over the countries in most need of my help. That's an area larger than the Axis ever acquired. The countries proving the most difficult to handle are, while not conquered, unable to reclaim lost lands. And the Earth is still turning. Take that, England. It seems you were wrong. You and France will be reentering the war soon enough, but I doubt there's much you can do to stop me. Just ask China and Japan. There's no one who can touch me now.

"…ombing on Union Square, though authorities claim it was an antiwar demonstration gotten out of hand." The newswoman's words halt my thinking. What? I've been attacked? So soon? "Several protesters were arrested, background checks revealing most come from outside the United States. Officials suspect the protesters may have snuck into the country to promote homeland terrorism."

The scene shows the plaza filled with thinning white smoke. A makeshift warzone. What appear to be firecrackers litter the street. People are scattering, some pausing long enough to take pictures of the vicinity with their phones. A group of rounded protesters are fighting valiantly against the riot police. But it's evident they have no chance of escape. Guns are drawn from both sides.

But that's not what steals my attention.

I almost miss it. A covert signal. A single protester—and not the supposed leader—is looking back toward the crowd, giving a quick jerk of his head. Two fingers held out by his side bend downward. _Lay low. Retreat for now._ No one sees this. Who is the message for? I follow his line of sight.

There's no one discernible. There's too much panic and chaos to pinpoint the recipient of the message. I see nothing. It's a good thing my face is impassive; no need for Canada to get wind of the rage rising inside me. This was yet another attempt to obstruct my spread of democracy throughout the rest of the world. Attacking the "root of the problem" as England would say, his preferred method. But this work didn't come about from England. I barely catch the relieved sigh exhaled from Canada.

"Guess it's a good thing those protesters were caught before anything bad happened, eh?" he chuckles lightly, his voice high. I don't bother to respond.

Wait…wait…is that…? In the crowd, with part of the small group of civilians being escorted away…those two look familiar…

The camera is not on them. They are walking away with their backs to the screen, almost out of the picture. But I recognize those builds. Those features. One blond, the other white haired. The second turns his head, just enough to look back briefly at the scene of chaos, unaware he is being filmed. Red eyes flash with victory. A triumphant smirk graces his face. He nods briefly. Then the two vanish into the swarm of exiting civilians.

"A-America?" Canada glances nervously in my direction as I get up and head for the door. The fear in his wide eyes almost sickens me.

I grin. "I think I'm gonna' have a little _talk_ with Germany…" To remind him, and the rest of the world for that matter, that they only had one simple rule to follow:

_Don't mess with me_

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><p>I'm well aware I took a lot of liberties with this story since it's set sometime in the distant future; the facts aren't all that accurate. But this sort of America—the one who's power-hungry, unbalanced, and unsure of his own actions while keeping up the façade of a hero—has intrigued me for the longest. And though the story comes across with America as the villain protagonist, there is no true good guy here: the other countries are equally at fault. Few tried talking things out, with most immediately declaring America a global threat. Nobody in the world is perfect, but I believe world peace could be achieved if all nations stopped being critical of one another and worked together towards one goal.<p> 


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